There's More To It All
by SandsWinchester
Summary: Set in and then after S10E16 "Paint It Black." Dean goes into confession and remembers the reader who was once his closest friend. Prompt: "Dean & the Reader are best friends and the reader has to move. Dean gets really depressed and randomly bumps into her at a hunt and they catch up. Eventually they start dating and she moves into the bunker and they live happily ever after."
1. Confessions

Dean sat back in the confessional booth, gently laughing about his womanizing ways as he laid them all out to the Father behind the separator. Perhaps it was the feeling of being partially hid in the shadow that made him really look back to his life and seek within himself. The confession that had started simply as a joke of sort or as a tool in achieving the objectives of this case turned quite serious quite fast.

"So anything else on your mind, Agent Altman?" the good Father prompted, given Dean's silence.

"What if I said I didn't wanna die? Yet. That I wasn't ready," Dean replied, and saying it out loud made him almost want to stop this conversation then and there.

"Are you expecting to?" the Father asked.

Dean smiled grimly to himself. "Always," he said. "The life I live, the work I do, I pretty much just figured that that was all there was to me, you know? Tear around and jam the key into the ignition and haul ass until I ran out of gas. I guess I just thought sooner or later I'd go out the same way that I live, pedal to the metal and that would be it."

"But now?"

"Now, uhm," Dean breathed slightly heavily, remembering everything that has led up to this moment right here in the now – the Mark of Cain, his demon days, his lapses in control, and most importantly, Cain's fateful prophecy. "Recent events made me think I'd be closer to that than I thought," he continued. "And I don't know there's things! There's people, feelings that I'd want to experience differently than I had before or maybe even for the first time." As soon as those words left his mouth, for some reason _her _face popped into his mind. Her beautiful, fresh faced self, laughing with no restraints at something irrefutably stupid. The flashes of memories bombarded him in just split seconds – the memory of her feel against him, her scent, her smile. Just everything about _her._

"Go a little deeper perhaps. Maybe with Gina?" the Father said bringing him back to the confessional booth.

Dean closed his eyes briefly for a moment. "I'm just starting to think that maybe there's more to it all than I thought."

_He was a senior freshly enrolled in another new high school right along with Sam when he met Y/N. She was a freshman in a few of Sam's classes, and somehow or the other Dean had been the one to get the closest to her. He didn't have a choice honestly. If he had one, he never would have let himself get attached, but he had felt like he had found his twin soul – someone he felt incredibly in sync with, so effortlessly. Someone who understood him without even trying to be understood. He felt more like himself with her than he had ever hoped to._

_They'd been here for about three or four months now but in truth, it felt like he'd been here forever, and Y/N had gotten entwined in their lives as if she'd always been there. In Sam's and Dean's life that is. John of course didn't know about her because Dean knew exactly what his dad would say about forming attachments._

_John was on a nearby hunt that day, a simple salt and burn hunt. Sam was doing his homework on his bed at the motel room. Dean lay side by side with Y/N, sharing the same walkman and listening to some tunes by _Led Zeppelin_, because it was a well-established fact that _Zeppelin _ruled._

_He looked over at Y/N, making up his mind to come clean to her. "There's something I need to tell you, Y/N."_

_She looked at him and saw the intensity in Dean's eyes. It scared her in some deep instinctive level that for some reason, she just didn't want to know. "Whatever you're going to say…will it change this, what we have right here?"_

_Like always, she was perceptive to what Dean was thinking and it slightly astounded him pretty much every day. "It might," he replied honestly._

_"Then I don't want to know," she dismissed it altogether and lied back down next to him._

_He chuckled. "Hey Y/N, you in love with me or something?" he asked hoping to tease her._

_"Shut up," she smiled, her eyes still closed and half listening to the song that was playing through their shared headphones._

_He looked over at her and for a moment stared because she couldn't see him doing so. "You sound like you are," he teased some more but there was a tiny little hope in him that maybe, just maybe she'd admit to it._

_"You're my best friend, Dean Winchester, and you know it," she said crushing any hope of that but it didn't exactly hurt as much as he thought it would. _

_She was _special _to him with or without anything more than just friendship. What they had, for however long it lasted, was perfect. He couldn't ask for more. _

The case was finally done with and they had managed to lay the vengeful spirit of Sister Isabella. Sam was in the driving seat cruising the Impala down the highway. He looked over at his brother. "You know you were in that confessional a long time," he spoke up. Dean looked at him only to awkwardly smile and glance away without a word.

For some unexplainable reason, the mentioning of his confession triggered another flashback to the past. It unnerved him how clear the memories were given that it was almost two decades ago. Except he remembered everything. He remembered too much.

_The case was finally done with and they had managed to lay the vengeful spirit of Sister Isabella. Sam was in the driving seat cruising the Impala down the highway. He looked over at his brother. "You know you were in that confessional a long time," he spoke up. Dean looked at him only to awkwardly smile and glance away without a word._

_For some unexplainable reason, the mentioning of his confession triggered another flashback to the past. It unnerved him how clear the memories were given that it was almost two decades ago. Except he remembered everything. He remembered too much._

_Dean was at Y/N's doorstep. Sam had headed on back to the motel but Dean had wanted to walk her to her home where she lived with her grandmother. She was rifling through her bag for a her keys. Failing to find them in there, she handed over the bag to Dean's empty hands and turned out her jean pockets. Dean was obviously laughing at her silly antics as always and his eyes rested on a flask peeping out from her open bag._

_What the hell? He wondered silently to himself. Did Y/N have a drinking problem? He pulled out the flask while she was distracted searching for her keys and saw another suspicious looking container. He pulled it out thinking, Oh God don't let this be drugs or something… He opened the container to find a soft fine white powder inside and he groaned, making Y/N turn around. Her eyes widened when she saw what he had in his hand._

_"What the hell are you doing? Don't you know you aren't supposed to go through a girl's bag?" she hissed._

_"Do you freaking have a drug problem?"_

_She rolled her eyes at him. "Really, Dean? Just taste it and see."_

_He pulled back hesitantly but she urged him once again, and he did. "This is salt," he said looking at her with the most confounded look on his face._

_She sighed. "Sit down," she said, lowering herself to the seat on her front porch. "I suppose it's time you knew." Dean already kind of knew exactly what she wanted him to know and he was feeling a little giddy inside. "I'm a hunter, Dean," she told him. "Well not me exactly, but my parents are. That's why they aren't ever around. They hunt ghosts, demons, ghouls, vampires, werewolves…all those things in the horror flicks that scare the shit out of you."_

_Dean just stared at her, unable to decide on what to say or how to explain to himself how this was even happening. Y/N was a hunter from a hunter family? What were the freaking chances?_

_"Helloooo…Earth to Dean. Did you hear anything I said?"_

_"Yeah," he said. "I heard you."_

_"Why aren't you saying something then?" she asked. Then she shrugged, wrapping her arms in front of her in a defensive pose. "Shouldn't you be screaming, or running or something?"_

_He didn't say anything. He just opened up his backpack and pulled out a flask of his own. "That's holy water." Then came a container with salt. Then he pulled out a knife with a gleaming blade. "This baby right here is made of pure silver."_

_It was her turn to gawk at him as if he had grown two heads. Then she smiled a little smile full of awe and surprise. "What are the chances? I mean what are the freaking chances, Dean? You're a hunter."_

_"I'm a hunter," Dean agreed. "That's actually what I wanted to tell you that day before you stopped me."_

_All of a sudden her hands were wrapped around him in an unexpected embrace. "You have no idea how relieved I feel right now!" she pulled back, and they were just inches apart. He could have almost kissed her, except of course he didn't. "I have someone to talk about this with. I can tell you literally everything now. No more secrets."_

_Dean felt relieved too. He had just given another part of himself to Y/N and it hadn't backfired on him either. A part of him felt like maybe this was all just meant to be…if you believed in that kind of thing. "No more secrets," he agreed grabbing her for another hug._

_They had stayed like that for a while, both of them silently wishing it could be like this forever. It couldn't be though. John dragged Sam and Dean out of that town in the dead of night without warning saying they weren't safe there anymore, and he didn't even get to say good bye to Y/N. He tried calling her after they settled somewhere else but she hadn't picked up and soon enough, her number became out of service. Dean convinced himself that maybe for Y/N what they had wasn't as special as it truly was for him. Maybe she let go even though Dean couldn't. Eventually, he tried to forget as well._

"Look man," Sam's voice broke Dean out of his trip down memory lane. "All I'm saying is I'm your brother. If you ever need to talk about anything or anybody, you got somebody right here next to you."

Dean closed his eyes. "I have some unfinished business I should take care of, Sammy. It's been twenty long years overdue."

Sam glanced at him, his brow creased with worry. "Twenty years?"

"Y/N. I need to find her. We left a lot of things unfinished and I really need to – "

"Hold it right there, Dean," Sam interrupted him. "It's been a really long time now. Y/N's probably living some apple pie life, a nice ordinary human life. What would you even say to her now, after all these years? Sorry I disappeared without a word, I went hunting for some ghosts and demons?"

Sam's logic was irrefutable, except he didn't know what Dean did. Dean had never gotten the chance to tell him about Y/N's hunter background. Except, what if she _was _leading some apple pie life? She was probably married with a couple of kids, living a life away from all the hunter crap like she always said she wanted to do. What right did he have to go barging in disrupting all of that? Sam _was _right. Dean nodded his agreement and stared out the window as they drove away.

The bunker was quiet that day when Dean walked into the library. He'd just woken up, and his only objective was to fix himself some breakfast. He saw Sam sitting at his laptop as usual with a phone in his hand. _Probably looking for a cure again,_ Dean thought shaking his head and walked to the kitchen.

He was just getting everything on the plate when Sam barged in. "What was Y/N's last name?"

_This was random_, Dean thought._ Even for Sam_. "It's Y/L/N. Why?" he asked raising a brow and trying to see where Sam was going with this.

"This is very random," Sam said, "An very weird too but I was going through one of Bobby's phones today."

"What's weird about that? You do that once in a while. How is this connected to Y/N, anyway?"

"That's the thing, Dean," Sam said handing over the phone to Dean's hand. "Just listen to this."

Dean took the phone and pressed the phone to his ear, listening intently to a female voice flow. _"Hey, Bobby, it's me, Y/N Y/L/N. I've come across a coven of witches in Nebraska and I could use your help for this one. Call me when you get this." _She was short and to the point. There were a lot of questions flying around in Dean's head. _How did Y/N know Bobby Singer? Was she still hunting, twenty years in, when she pretty much swore she wouldn't? Should he call her?_

"Should we call her and see?" Sam asked. "And what the hell, Dean?! Y/N's a freaking hunter? Did you even know?"

"Yeah, I knew," Dean replied to Sam's shock. "I'm not going to call her, Sammy."

"Why the hell not, Dean? Weren't you just saying the other day that you wanted to? Did you change your mind?"

"Nope," Dean said. He wasn't going to risk her hanging up on him and avoiding him. "I'm not going to call her," he continued. "I'm going to find her and talk to her face-to-face when she can't run away from it." For the first time in days, Dean found himself smiling. It was genuine and even Sam could see there was hope mingled in there.


	2. Revelations

Dawn was only starting to creep in and soft morning light was gently streaming in through the thin motel room drapes. She was almost done packing. She was almost ready to tail out of Nebraska. She was almost done, but she found herself sitting in the chair, her hand gently resting on the gun on her lap…waiting.

Y/N knew she shouldn't have lied to Bobby on that voicemail. Saying that she needed help with a motley bunch of witches? What the hell had she been thinking? Of course Bobby knew better. After all, he had been the one to train her, and she had been tackling down all the things that go bump in the night all on her own in her time in Europe during the last decade or so. Bobby wasn't going to show because he probably saw right through her little scheme.

She should have just apologized for everything that went down between them. She had said a lot of hurtful things that day, a lot of undeserved hateful things to him. He hadn't backed down either. It was he who had told her to _stay_ gone.

**_Ten years ago…_**

_Y/N had been finishing off a hunt somewhere in the Midwest when she got a call from Bobby Singer. This wasn't anything unusual. He'd helped her through the hardest time of her life. He had raised her into the hunter's life, and had taught her to be great at what she did. He was the reason she knew not to go in half-cocked into _anything_. He was the reason she was a meticulous research-freak too. They'd work on some cases together, and some he'd just help her with whatever research she needed over the phone. So, yes, getting a call from Bobby Singer wasn't anything unusual for Y/N._

_"Hey, Bobby, what can I do for you?" she asked, and her genuine smile was felt by the recipient even through the phone._

_"Something's come up, Y/N. I could use another hand in this."_

_She shifted the phone to her other ear, and pulled the car over. "What's this about? Whatever it is, it sounds pretty big." She could hear it in Bobby's tense voice._

_"Demons, Y/N," he told her, and she felt a shiver of apprehension down her spine. Then hesitantly, Bobby added, "But I got to warn you, you'd be working with a few other hunters I know."_

_He knew she liked to work alone, and most of the time so did he. It was kind of him to give a heads up. "Depends on who. It's not Rufus, is it?" she chuckled._

_"I'm not sure if I ever told you about them, kid. You might have heard though. The Winchesters?" Bobby asked. If Y/N hadn't been gripping the phone tight, it probably would have slipped right through her fingers thanks to the shock to her system. _Dean…Dean was a Winchester. _The thought reverberated in her head. "Sam and Dean Winchester," Bobby confirmed her worst fears. "Their dad's in a bit of a pickle and we got a demon in my basement."_

_"In your basement?" Y/N all but shrieked in disbelief._

_"Like I said, I could use your help on this one, kid," he told her._

_She already knew her answer though. She couldn't face Dean. She couldn't face him after what he did, leaving without even a good bye. Being out of reach, when she desperately needed him the most. Eight years in, and she still wasn't ready to face him or forgive him for coming into her life, being her life line and then completely abandoning her without a word of warning. "I can't, Bobby," she replied softly._

_"Why the hell not?" he asked, and she could almost sense that he was getting genuinely annoyed with her now. He had a right. Maybe he also deserved an explanation._

_"Remember I told you about that boy who befriended me, told me he was a hunter just like my parents and then disappeared without a word? The one who pretty much broke my heart and trust and all that other crap?"_

_"You never did tell me his name. What does that have to do with any of it anyway?"_

_Y/N sighed. "It's Dean, Bobby," she told him. "I can't deal with a freaking reunion right now. Definitely not one I don't want. Please."_

_"Y/N Y/L/N! Stop being a stupid pansy and get your scrawny ass over here, kid. War is coming," he told her vehemently. "Your petty little high school drama can wait!"_

_"I'm sorry, Bobby. I just can't. I have to go now," she said, and before he could say anything more to convince her, she disconnected the call._

Dean, Dean, Dean. _She sighed to herself. _Dean freaking Winchester. _The boy who showed her that she didn't have to be alone. The boy who told her that she didn't have to face the darkness of this world alone because she'd always have him. The boy who left her without a word, to be exactly what he said she wouldn't be, completely and irrevocably_ alone.

_Knowing Bobby actually needed her, she couldn't stay away even though she had said she would. She drove straight to Sioux Falls and parked a little further away, waiting till the Winchesters left. She didn't have to wait long, and soon she saw a black 1967 Chevy Impala smoothly pull out of the Salvage Yard. She waited a moment, giving them time to drive away before she pulled up in front of Bobby Singer's house._

_She let herself in and walked into the study to find Bobby waiting for her with his arms folded in front of him. "I never thought I'd be saying this to you of all people, Y/N," he said. "But I'm disappointed in you."_

_She supposed she deserved that. "I'm not ready. Try to understand, Bobby."_

_"I understand just fine! What in the world are you thinking?" he asked, stepping closer, ever the imposing father figure. "You gonna tell me that you'd rather be running from whatever it is that you're running from rather than face it full on? I would have thought I raised you better than that, kid!"_

_She looked down at her feet. "The wounds haven't healed yet," she shrugged. "I'm not ready to face him or talk about everything left unsaid."_

_"Oh boo hoo! Stop spouting that poetic nonsense! Sooner or later, you're going to have to face him, and it might as well be now." Then he narrowed his eyes at her and she saw the sheer determination in them. "It's better coming from you," he went on, "than me telling him."_

_"Bobby!" she gasped. "You wouldn't!" When he didn't say anything, she panicked. "What gives _you _the right to decide when and how I do things, damn it?!"_

_He took a step back, almost as if to lessen the blow from her words. As soon as they left her lips, she regretted them. He had every right, and she knew it. After all, he was the one who'd taken her under his wing when she had no one at all. But she was in no position to take them back. He needed to understand how desperately she needed to stay out of Dean's radar, at least for now. He needed to let her do this in her own pace._

_"I don't need to take this from you," her voice raised. "Just leave me the hell alone!"_

_She made a move for the door and she heard him yell out from the study, "If you're leaving, you better _stay_ gone!" Without looking back, she slammed the door behind her._

The knock on her motel room door brought Y/N back from her reverie. She checked her phone to see if Bobby had called only to find that he hadn't. No hunter was stupid enough to show up at another's doorstep without calling first. She grabbed her gun and kept it cocked and ready behind her when she opened the door just enough to see who was there.

The two men that stood in front of her dressed in plaid and about three layers of clothing were not people she knew. One was tall, very tall, and Y/N was sure he stood at least a foot above her. His hair was way too long. The other one was slightly shorter but still towered over her. His green eyes stared at her as if he had seen a ghost. She recognized him instantly. After all, a face like that was never easily forgotten. She wondered if just thinking about him in so long had magically conjured him up at her doorstep. She dismissed that foolish thought and stared back at the two plaid giants in front of her.

"Y/N Y/L/N?" the taller one asked smiling, and revealed a slight dimple. For some reason he reminded her of an overgrown puppy. So this was _Sam. Boy did he grow…must have been one hell of a growth spurt._ She thought to herself, remembering how scrawny little Sammy had been when she'd first met him.

"Who wants to know?" she cocked a brow at them, hoping to confirm her suspicions.

"Dean, and Sam Winchester," the other one said. She had avoided Dean's probing green eyes, but when he spoke she found herself looking at him. He looked back at her. It seemed like he wanted to say more but he consciously held his tongue.

Dean couldn't believe his eyes. He was trying to take her in all at once. She'd grown her hair out, and it fell about her shoulders in wavy disarray. She had grown taller, too, and stood almost up to his chin. It had been twenty years but he knew he still would have recognized her anywhere. She seemed tense, and he could tell she had her gun behind her back, cocked and ready to shoot if they even said the wrong thing. Proving him right, he gently let her guard down and the gun came to rest by her side.

"Hey, hey!" he chuckled. "No need to shoot just yet, short stop. We come in peace."

She opened the door further. "I guess I'm supposed to let you in now," she said, her face stony and unreadable.

"That _is_ the norm," Dean replied, trying to get a smile out of her.

Then all of a sudden, Sam was wrapping his big arms around Y/N and hugging her. Dean didn't know who was more surprised by this sudden move, him or Y/N. "It's so good to see you again, Y/N," Sam said. "It's been too long."

Y/N gently and hesitantly hugged him back. "It's good to see you too," she whispered to Sam, but her eyes were focused on Dean.

He wanted to embrace her. That was just how he had imagined this reunion going but seeing her now, he didn't know what to do or what to say. She looked just like he had pictured her in his mind, and yet she looked so different, so distant. She looked like all she wanted was to get as far away from him as possible. He couldn't stand it.

They stepped into her room. Her bags were packed and ready to go. "I thought you were on a hunt," Sam said, sounding slightly confused.

"Yeah, I managed to wrap it up myself," she answered. "I called Bobby. Why are you here?" Then as if it suddenly dawned on her she asked with a chuckle, "Is he still so mad at me that he sent you two as some sort of a justified punishment?"

Her words hurt Dean. _So running into him was a punishment to her?_ He wondered how he had fallen so far down in Y/N's eyes for her to even say that.

"Y/N," Sam said solemnly, making her just know in her gut that something was terribly wrong. "Bobby is dead."


	3. Catching Up

"Y/N, Bobby is dead."

If she had cried, it probably wouldn't have been this hard for Dean to see. Upon hearing Sam's words, Y/N simply seemed to shut down, going into a state of shock. She seemed numb. So he just watched her from his place in the chair, as Sam sat next to her.

"So he's dead," she said to no one in particular. "When did it happen?"

Sam was restlessly fiddling with his own fingers. He wanted to hug Y/N, maybe comfort her in some way but he knew instinctively that it was not something she would want right now. "Almost three years ago."

Y/N closed her eyes in regret. Bobby had been dead for three whole years and she hadn't even known. She counted back in her head to remember what she had been doing at that time. "Leviathans?" she asked looking at Sam, and then at Dean.

Dean nodded grimly. "Yeah. Their head honcho, Dick Roman. His bullet hit Bobby in the head."

"Where did you -"

Dean didn't need Y/N to finish her question to know what she wanted to know. "We gave him a proper hunter's funeral."

"Y/N," Sam said with a slight smile, hoping to offer her some sort of comfort. "He's in heaven now. We made sure of that. He's at peace."

She tried to smile but she was certain it must have looked pitiful to the both of them. She thought about Bobby, and how they'd left things. She thought about how they never got to properly say their good-byes. A part of her envied Dean and Sam for having that opportunity, except she didn't have any right to that envy either. _She_ had been the one to throw away that opportunity. _She_ had been the one to decide stupidly to stay away for ten freaking years! _He's at peace_, she repeated to herself. No more hunting, and no more blood. No more pain. Maybe, just maybe, in knowing that, she could find some peace too.

Y/N was silent again for a while, and Dean simply watched her. She was still, not looking at either of them, but to Dean it felt like it was him that she was truly avoiding. He couldn't figure out for the life of him what he'd done so wrong for her to put this much distance between them. It was true that he'd left without a word twenty years ago but, heck! That was twenty years ago, damn it. It wasn't like he hadn't tried to call her. It was she who had not picked up. It wasn't like he hadn't tried to reach out to her to find her. It was she who had not wanted to be found. Then life happened – hell gates, hell itself, the apocalypse, Leviathans, Purgatory…the Mark. Dean _had _tried, except now he was starting to think that maybe he should have just tried a little bit harder.

Y/N wiped her face with her palm, and ran her hand through her hair. "So what have you boys been up to since I last saw you?" Sam and Dean shared a look, as if silently asking each other how much of it should they really tell her. "What?" she asked.

Sam chuckled. "I'm not sure where to begin."

"Maybe from the beginning?" she quipped, and Sam did. Y/N couldn't believe her ears. Dean had almost died in a car crash. They'd lost their dad to a demon deal. Sam had died because of Azazel, or Yellow-Eyes as Sam referred to him, then Dean had made a deal to bring him back to life. Then Dean had gone to hell, and had been tortured for almost four months. This was the hardest to hear, except Sam kept going. He was far from done. When he told her about the angels and the apocalypse, she already had known some parts of it, except hearing their side of it and how it had pretty much almost destroyed them made Y/N want to cry in their behalf. Then Dean went to purgatory and Sam had hit a dog or something. They found out that they were a part of something called the _Men of Letters_, which of course she had never heard of before.

"So in other words," Sam said quite nonchalantly, "We've been to hell, purgatory, and very briefly to heaven as well."

"Oh God, why didn't anyone tell me?" Y/N asked with a horrified look on her face, except she already knew why. She'd disappeared, and no one had known how to reach her, not even Bobby. They'd been through so much in the past years, and she could have been there for them, but she hadn't been - all because of her stupid decision to walk away from them. In the grim light of what they had suffered, her pain that had led to her walking away seemed so petty.

"These days…" Sam began but Dean cut him off with a look. Y/N could tell that there was something that Dean didn't want her to know but she chose not to push it then. What she had heard already would take a lot of time to sink in anyway.

Dean slightly cleared his throat, making her glance his way. "So what have you been up to?" he wanted to know.

"Well, nothing as colorful as you two. I've been touring Europe taking down some nests of fangs here and there."

"No way! No freaking way! That was you?" Sam all but yelled. "Dude, remember I told you some time back about this rumor of some hunter going around Europe wiping out nests all alone?" Dean nodded. "Well," Sam continued, "I think that was Y/N. Was it?"

"It might have been," Y/N winked.

"Wow," Sam grinned. "That's pretty cool."

Y/N just shrugged. "All part of the job. I work better alone anyway, you know."

Dean stood up. He'd had enough of this. Y/N was perfectly normal with Sam, and yet she completely stonewalled him. He couldn't take it. He needed to get out of here at least for a while. He was starting to feel angry. He couldn't tell if it was just the Mark acting up or if it was him. It was getting harder and harder to tell it all apart these days. "I'm starving," he declared. "I'm going to grab some grub. You guys want anything?"

"Coffee would be nice," Y/N said looking at him uncertainly.

"I could go," Sam volunteered but Dean just motioned for him to stay. Grabbing the keys of the Impala, he was gone.

Y/N looked at the door that he closed behind him. "Something's off with Dean," she said almost to herself. She could just feel it in her gut even though she couldn't put her finger on it. He seemed like he was on edge, and angry. She knew that twenty years could do a lot to someone, especially with what he has been through but something was just off. She just _knew _it.

Sam debated with himself wondering how much he should truly tell her. He needed her to understand, but he didn't want to scare her off. In the end, he decided to go with the truth. "What do you know about the Mark of Cain, Y/N?"

Her eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. "Uhm, not much. I mean, I've heard a story. Once I exorcised a demon, one real high ranking bitch. She said something about it in passing. From what I understood, it was like a legend in the demon world."

"It's real," Sam told her solemnly. Then he went on to tell her about how Dean took on the Mark of Cain to take down Abaddon, the Knight of Hell, and later Cain himself. He told her how it had even turned him into a demon, and how Sam had cured him. With each word, he slowly watched her, gauging her response. It seemed she was taking it pretty well, or Y/N had a real good poker face. "I'm trying, Y/N, I _need _to save him before it destroys him."

The thoughts were whirling in Y/N's head, and she was desperately trying to make sense of it all. It seemed so surreal, but clearly it was all true, and it was happening here and now to Dean. _What in the world happened to the day when hunting was just killing a couple of werewolves and laying some ghosts to rest?_ She wondered to herself. No matter how hard it was to take in all of this, she knew one thing for certain. This could be a chance to make up for what she couldn't do before. "Honestly, Sam, I don't know what to say…but I want to help Dean too. I want to help you both."

"I was hoping you'd say that," Sam smiled. He stared at her before finally deciding to come clean about what he'd been thinking ever since Dean went into that confession during their last case. "Dean's been really on edge lately. He's all about the hunt, moving on from one to the other, just focused on keeping up with the motions, you know? But for the first time since all this started happening, he showed some real emotion – like he wants more. That was when he thought about you. He's different around you, Y/N. He's sentimental about you."

Y/N couldn't help but scoff at that. "Really? Is that why it took him two decades to find me?"

"I don't have a proper answer to that. You'll have to ask him why," Sam shrugged. "But one thing's for sure. I feel like you're his emotional trigger. He needs that. You have no idea how much he needs something like that, Y/N."

She sighed. She didn't know how much of it to believe or if Sam even knew what he was talking about. Over the past few years, she had convinced herself that Dean probably forgot about her, and that he probably did it quite easily. She pretended she had forgotten about him too. She'd gone pretty much more than half her life trying to do so even if the slightest thing reminded her of him. She couldn't even hear a _Led Zeppelin _song without having flashbacks of the greenest eyes framed by those thick lashes.

Was she to believe now that it had been the same for Dean? Did he keep her in his mind for the last twenty years too? If what Sam was saying was even remotely true, that's exactly what she was supposed to believe. She couldn't decide if this was happiness that she was feeling, of if it was sheer fear. Was she ready to let him in again and risk it all – this safe little life of loneliness she'd built for herself?

"What do you need me to do?" she finally asked resignedly, and a part of her knew that she just might regret this.

X X X

Dean took his own sweet time driving to the nearby diner and getting them some food. He hoped Y/N still liked those little Cinnamon rolls she used to obsess over when they were kids, because he'd gotten a whole bag full of them.

X X X

_"Even if it's the last thing I do, I'm going to save you, Dean Winchester," Y/N giggled. "You're not failing Algebra. Not on my watch."_

_They were at this little diner near her house, and Y/N had gotten it into her head to tutor him. He grabbed them seat and dumped his books on the table. "Oh yeah? You're four grades below me. I'd like to see you try."_

_She just scoffed at him, completely dismissing him as always. "Please, I'm so much more smarter than you. I got this," she insisted._

_One hour, one coffee pot, and about half a dozen cinnamon rolls between them later, Y/N finally decided to admit defeat. "I don't think I got this," she sighed. "I can't help you. No one can."_

_"I think I'll muddle through," he chuckled. "You don't exactly need algebra to figure out how to kill a werewolf."_

_Y/N quickly shushed him and looked around to see if they were overheard. When she was certain they weren't, she turned back to him to say giddily, "Exactly! That's just what I keep saying too! You, Dean Winchester, just might be my soul mate."_

_Dean laughed. "Do you like saying my full name or something?" Then he thought about what she said about the whole soul mate thing. "Do you even believe in that crap?"_

_She looked subdued and offended by his reaction. "Are you making fun of me?"_

_He hated the way she looked right now, all withdrawn and confused. He hated it more knowing that his words had put that look on her. Dean reached out to take hold of her hand. Her fingers, slender and long, entwined with his. Her hand, so small and smooth, fit perfectly into his big rough callused palm. She fit into his life, all that he was. Was this what having a soul mate felt like, this complete feeling of belonging?_

_"I don't believe in soul mates, Y/N," he told her honestly, and watched her face fall. It was just the tiniest change in expression that no one else would have caught but he saw it. He didn't miss anything when it came to her. "But know this," he continued, solemnly staring into her eyes. "If I ever did believe in such things, I think it would be because of you. If feeling the way I feel when I'm with you is what it feels like to have a soul mate, then I want to feel it forever."_

_Y/N didn't know what to make of it. It almost sounded like Dean was telling her that he loved her, and a part of Dean thought that maybe that was exactly what he was doing right now. Somehow neither of them needed to elaborate, but they both just somehow knew in their hearts that what they had was changing from just a simple friendship to something much, much more._

_"Forever, and always?" she asked him teasingly._

_Dean grinned, tightening his hand around hers. "Forever, and always…to hell and back," he promised her. Then he watched her laugh at his quip, letting the musical notes of her happiness wash over him, embracing him. He felt at peace, and he never wanted to lose this._

X X X

"Forever, and always," Dean mumbled to himself in memory. So many questions fluttered around in his head as he took the long way back to the motel, wanting more time to clear his mind. _How had they forgotten that pact? How had they let themselves forget? Would things have been different if somehow he'd tracked down Y/N sooner without waiting for twenty whole years?_ But then he gently reminded himself that if he had, he probably would have gotten her killed. Maybe things went down the way they did for a reason.

His phone rang, and he picked up to hear Sam's voice. "Dean, where are you?"

"I'm on my way. I got your stupid salad, sasquatch."

"We are ready to drive back to the bunker, I guess," Sam told him.

_What did he mean by 'we'? _Dean wondered. "Did you say 'we'?" he asked just to clarify.

"Yeah," Sam confirmed. "I asked Y/N to come stay at the bunker with us, at least for a while."

"And she said _yes_?" Dean asked in disbelief.

"Yeah, she did. We'll talk more when you get here." Then there was some shuffling noise, as if Y/N said something to Sam. "And Y/N says you better not have forgotten the cinnamon rolls." With that the line went dead.

Dean stared a little while longer at the phone, still unable to believe what he had heard. _What the hell was going on? _One moment it felt like Y/N couldn't wait to get away from him and now she was coming back to live with them? _Dude, what the hell!_

He glanced over at the brown paper bag next to him. "At least I got the cinnamon rolls," he muttered to himself and sped up the Impala. All of a sudden, he was in a hurry to get back to the motel…to get back to _her_.


	4. Nerd Alert

Sam had described the place as a hole in the wall. Dean had called it the "Batcave." When Y/N walked into the bunker, it was late night – or very early in the morning, and all she cared about was being pointed to a bed for the night. She ended up falling flat on her face, and she was completely knocked out the moment she hit the bed.

Outside, Dean lingered in front of Y/N's closed door. Had he done the right thing, dragging her into his life, when he was at his worst? When he really thought about it, would there ever be a _right_ time in his life? Every single day that passed was just another nightmare greater than the last.

"I'm gonna crash too," Sam announced, and disappeared down the hallway to his room. His thoughts were plaguing him as well. The only thing he could think about was saving Dean. He had to find a way. Deep down, he knew that bringing Y/N into all of this was not the wisest move, especially for her. He was putting her life at risk, but he was desperate. A desperate man could be compelled to do things he never thought he would do. He prayed Castiel would come through with something, _some _way to save Dean from the Mark, and himself.

Almost as if he heard the very prayer, Castiel's name lit up on Sam's phone with an intense vibration. He glanced down the hallway to see that Dean had already adjourned to his room. Feeling safe from being overheard, he answered. "Cas, tell me you have something."

"I might," he said, and Sam heard the hesitation in his voice. "But you are not going to like it."

* * *

_The water pressure is freaking amazing, _Y/N thought as she let the water pour all over her. After months and month of cheap accommodation, in both the states and Europe, genuinely clean sheets, and decent water pressure in a mold-free bathroom felt like absolute heaven. Her mind wanted to linger, and indulge just a little bit more but she stepped out of the shower and hurriedly dressed.

She chose a simple worn out t-shirt and a pair of faded jeans. Unlike Sam and Dean, an overload of plaid and three layers of shirts were definitely _not _her thing. Her entire wardrobe, whatever meager things she kept close, was very _black_. She liked the shade a little too much. It was just a perfect colour, she felt comfortable in it, it was non-descript, and she could blend into the dark as easy as a shadow.

Excited to finally get a good look at this bunker the boys had gushed about, she opened the door, only to find Dean ready to knock on it. "Hi," he said blinking down at her. He brought his hand down to rest by his side, and Y/N wasn't certain but she thought she saw a slight tint of red creep up to his face. He cleared his throat. "Did you sleep well?"

"Like a baby," she told him, mustering up a smile. She wanted to ask him the same, but the slight shadows under his eyes told her that he probably hadn't.

In an unexpected move, he took hold of her hand, and gently pulled her with him. "Come on. There's something I have to show you." The smile he threw at her was unexpected too, that she forgot they weren't supposed to be this familiar with each other. He wasn't supposed to touch her like they've always known each other, right? It's been twenty years since she last saw him! Except, all of a sudden, it didn't feel like twenty years had passed between them. In her mind, this thirty-something man was replaced by the boy she had known and loved, always excited about showing her something, whether it was a shot gun he'd made on his own or an EMF meter he mustered up from a busted walkman.

He pulled her down the hallway, and as she hurried to keep up with his long strides, she vaguely saw a number of rooms lining up the corridor. Then they were in an open area. "Oh my god," Y/N gasped in awe. Dean couldn't hold back the grin as he watched her take it all in.

The tables were probably made of the finest type of wood. The lighting bounced off perfectly on ancient samurai swords and a multitude of shining weapons on flamboyant display. The sigils on the floor and even the ceiling were done to perfection with evident craftsmanship. Y/N only had eyes for the large bookcases with lines and lines of books arranged in the shelves. The Men of Letters bunker had a library she would _kill _for.

"This is freaking unbelievable," she mumbled, twirling around, and letting her eyes take it in.

"Over 2000 years' research of all things supernatural gathered by anyone _ever_," he said gesturing to the library, "is right here in this place."

"No way!" she shrieked.

"Yes way!" Dean laughed deep in throat.

She picked up a random book off a nearby shelf. She opened it up and placed the frayed pages in front of her face, taking a good healthy sniff. "This smells like _heaven_," she breathed.

"You haven't changed one bit, have you?" he said, and Y/N turned to him to find that he was grinning at her like the little mischievous boy she remembered.

* * *

_The smell of books was always a source of comfort for her, and that was probably why the town's library had become her sanctuary. Her favorite place though was the _Members Only_ section, simply because no one really came there. It was her own slice of heaven away from the rest of the world. She had to show it to Dean. That was how Dean Winchester found himself in an actual library, leaning against a shelf with a look of utter boredom on his face._

_"What are we doing here again?" he asked, watching her run her fingertips across the spines of bounded volumes of whatever they were. She shushed him. He looked around, and chanced upon the sign saying this was a restricted area. "We aren't even supposed to be here, are we?"_

_She scoffed dismissively. "And when has rules ever stopped you, Winchester?"_

_"True," he chuckled mostly to himself, simply because Y/N was in her own little bubble, sniffing away at pages._

_The shuffling of footsteps made them both glance up in alertness. She quickly grabbed him and squeezed themselves between two shelves, out of direct line of sight. She laid a finger to her lips, wordlessly telling him to keep quiet. _

_It was a tight fit in the little nook, and Dean's firm chest was pressed against hers. He could feel everything that was womanly about her, so soft next to him. His scent and presence invaded her nostrils and her mind. He smelled better than the best scent of a book. His hand rested right next to her face, gently holding on to the bookcase, barely touching._

_The librarian walked past them and then she left that room, moving on to other parts of the building._

_"I think we are clear," Dean announced in a whisper. His eyes bore into hers, and for the life of her, she couldn't look away. The crystal jade of his eyes could capture her mind, and her heart, too swiftly if she wasn't careful. Her eyes dropped to his full lips. The proximity must have been driving her insane, for she had the sudden impulsive urge to press her own to his. "I think we are clear, Y/N," he repeated, just a little louder._

_Her eyes rushed back to his, and the embarrassment on behalf of her evidently unreturned wayward thoughts made her push him away. "Idiot," she mumbled. "Come on. Let's go home."_

_Dean couldn't understand her sudden shift in mood. All he knew was that if they had stayed there, pressed against each other, feeling her breasts against him, taking her fruity heady scent to his head, just a little longer, he wouldn't have been able to hide what was in his pants. _Stupid hormones, _he cursed to himself, and pushed away from the bookshelf to follow her out._

_A book dropped with a loud thud. His eyes met her widened ones. There was no way that the stuffy librarian had not heard that. "You are such an idiot, Dean," she said, and a sudden giggle escaped her lips watching his obvious childish regret. She grabbed his hand and rushed out the building, still giggling and laughing. He was laughing too. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately with her around._

* * *

When Sam walked into the library with his hopelessly healthy egg white omelet in hand, the sight that greeted him had him slightly staring. Dean was grinning like a little idiot. He hadn't seen that in a long while. Seeing the cause admiring the library and sticking her nose into a book, whatever doubts he had of involving Y/N in his mission to save Dean evaporated.

When his brother mumbled something about getting a shower and left Sam alone with Y/N, he thought it best to tell her of what he had planned. "I'm going to watch a boring French movie tomorrow. At least that's what I'd be telling Dean."

Y/N stuffed her hands in her pocket, and watched him sit down in front of his laptop. "And where will you be _really _going?"

"Remember that scribe of God who almost destroyed Heaven?" Sam asked. Upon Y/N's affirmative nod, he continued. "Castiel and I are going to find a way to get him to talk. He knows something about the Mark. I feel it."

"Castiel would be the angel in love with you two, right?"

Sam chuckled. "He would have a field day with you." Y/N raised a brow at his insinuated insult. "He's awkward around humans. Especially sassy women," he said as an explanation. Then his expressions turned grave. "Worse come to worst, we'd have to bust Metatron out." Y/N wanted to protest but Sam said, "I know, alright? It's the worst plan out there…but right now, it's all I have. I have to do _something_, Y/N!"

She laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I know, Sammy. I know." Then trying to elevate the mood at least a bit, she said, "While you're gone, I'll make sure to keep Dean out of trouble."

He smiled back at her. "Thanks for being here, Y/N. I mean it. I don't know if you can see it, but he seems better already with you around."

* * *

The guttural screams of anguish and endless pain that reverberated off the bunker's walls told them both that Dean wasn't doing better. He wasn't better at all. In fact, he was getting worse.


	5. Inner Demons

_Don't get too close..._

_It's dark inside..._

_It's where my demons hide..._

* * *

She wasn't sure what woke her up in the middle of the night. The bunker was quiet, and according to Sam, nothing evil could invade the safety of its walls, so it was absolutely safe as well. So she didn't have an idea as to what made her feel so alert and wide awake. With the intention of calming down her nerves a bit, she got up from her bed to walk to the kitchen to get some milk.

She didn't get very far.

She could hear sounds of struggle coming from inside the room in front of hers. _Dean_… He was fighting and struggling against something evil inside his room. She heard him growl and grunt as if he was in anguish. Her hunters' instinct kicking in, she rushed inside hoping to aid him in ridding of whatever assailant he was fighting.

She stood in the middle of the room, staring at Dean's writhing form on the bed. The room was empty, except for the two of them, which was a blessed thing, considering she had stupidly charged in without even a weapon in hand, and just clad in her flimsy tank top and sleeping shorts in her rush to get to Dean. If there had been some monster in his room, she'd most likely be lying on the floor dead right about now.

To say there really wasn't a monster would have been a lie though. He was fighting something vicious, and just because she couldn't _see_ it doesn't mean it wasn't there. He was having one hell of a nightmare, and Y/N wondered what demons could be torturing Dean in his sleep, making him groan and writhe in so much pain and anguish.

She stepped closer, and laid a gentle hand on his heaving chest. "Dean, wake up. It's just a nightmare," she whispered.

A guttural sound escaped his throat as he lashed out and instinctively tackled her, rolling her underneath him in a position of submission. His eyes were open now, except they weren't really seeing her. They were wild and frantic, his brow furrowed in anger. He was still in the middle of whatever nightmare he'd been seeing, and he thought she was the enemy he had been fighting.

His hands tightened around her throat, big and strong, spanning easily around her fragile neck. She knew she should be struggling, or doing something to fight him off, but she couldn't. She stared back at him, completely transfixed by the expression on his face. _Oh Dean,_ she sighed inside, and tears sprang to her eyes. She told herself it was because his grip had tightened even more and she was finding it harder to breathe, but in truth, seeing him like this, in so much unmanageable pain, it broke her too. He had been the warrior who always fought demons and evil sons of bitches out there that no one even knew existed. And here he was now, fighting things within himself, destroying him from inside, and he didn't know reality from hallucination.

She tried to push him off her, but his body pressed hers down to the mattress with his heavy weight. Six feet and 190 pounds of muscle and man had her in a vice-like grip. She was starting to see spots. "Dean, it's me," she croaked. She _had _to get through to him. She didn't want to die, not like this. She didn't want him to be the one haunted by her blood on his hands for the rest of his life. And also, she just didn't want to _die_. Period.

Y/N saw the glazed hazy look lift from Dean's eyes, a fraction of a second before Sam burst in with a gun in his hand.

Sam had been sleeping quite peacefully, as peaceful as his sleep could ever get lately, when the guttural screams coming from down the hall had him wide awake and sprinting in that direction. He didn't know who or what was attacking his brother, but he knew that whatever it was, they weren't leaving the bunker alive. Not if Dean could help it, and definitely not if Sam could help it.

The sight that he saw upon bursting into Dean's room had him confused, that he forgot to drop the gun. Y/N was lying underneath Dean, and for a moment Sam thought he'd walked in on something he just did _not _want to see – his brother getting his frisky on. But then he saw that they were both clothed and Dean's hands were around her throat, strangling her to death. It didn't look like foreplay. It looked he was literally killing her with his bare hands!

Hearing Sam's entrance, Dean's attention shifted, and he jumped off her, and off the bed, to attack the intruder. Seeing it was just his brother, he visibly relaxed.

"What the hell is going on?!" Sam yelled walking towards Y/N, as Dean leaned against the wall, trying to get further away from them as he could.

She got up from the bed, gently rubbing her neck. She'd probably have to wear scarves or turtlenecks for a couple of days. Dean watched her warily from afar, noticing her subtle actions. Already regret was contorting his features. _Great_, Y/N thought. Now she had two wary Winchesters in her hands. "Dean was having a nightmare. I was just trying to wake him up," she told Sam.

"Are you alright?" he asked her. She simply shrugged in an affirmative. In the brief glance that passed, it was established that she most definitely was _not _alright, but neither of them wanted to discuss it in front of Dean. Sam turned to his brother. "You okay?"

She watched his swallow, and his Adam's apple bobbed visibly. He was tense. "Yeah," he mumbled, finding his way to the bed and sitting down, his face burrowed in his hands. "I'm fine." He was not.

Y/N plastered an overly cheerful smile on her face. "See! He's okay," she said, pushing a confused Sam Winchester out of the room. "He's fine, and I got this okay?"

Outside, Sam simply stared at her in disbelief. "He is _not _fine, damn it!" he whispered furiously, trying to keep his voice law so that Dean wouldn't hear. "And you definitely do not 'got this,' Y/N!"

She shushed him, closing the door behind her halfway. "Let me handle this, Sammy," she whispered back.

Sam couldn't resist her imploring eyes. If Dean thought Sam's 'puppy dog eyes' were effective, Y/N's was a _killer_. It was spot on and irresistible. He nodded. "Alright then. Just be careful, okay?"

She watched his tense retreating back for a moment longer and then slowly stepped into Dean's room once more. He was in the middle of getting back into his bed when he tensed up upon her entrance. She closed the door, earning a questioning glance from him.

"This is going to sound redundant," he said, pulling up the covers over him. "But I am sorry I almost killed you."

Even in the gravity of what almost happened, a giggle escaped her lips. "I'm glad you didn't." She smiled down at him, laying a hand on his shoulder, feeling the muscles tense upon her touch. It felt like she was tucking in a little child. Dean looked so hopeless and helpless, lost in the fading embers of his nightmare. "Get some sleep, Dean."

He closed his eyes, knowing he'd hear the click of the door when she left. Until then, he chose to keep the regret at bay, for it was waiting to swallow him whole. _What have I done, bringing her into my life?_ Movement next to him had him opening his eyes in disbelief. He turned to his side to find Y/N getting into bed and tucking the covers over her. "What the hell are you doing?" he asked her. "You can't stay here!"

"What?" she blinked at him as if he was being ridiculous. "It's not like you are going to need the whole bed to yourself. I promise not to hog the covers." She knew she was taking a risk by choosing to lie next to him, when clearly the Mark was turning him into something else entirely. She knew he could hurt her without even knowing it. She couldn't bring herself to leave. This was _Dean,_ damn it. She'd lived pretty much half her life away from him when she should have been right by his side. Promises were meant to be more than just words. They were meant to be kept. She wasn't leaving him alone. Not now, not ever.

"Y/N," he whispered, with a pained look on his face, silently asking her, begging her, to let him be.

"Go to sleep, Dean," she instructed him, a little sternly. Then gentling her voice, she said, "I'll wake you up if you start acting up again, okay?"

"Before or after I kill you?"

"Hopefully, before," she chuckled, and Dean couldn't understand how she could find humor in a moment like this.

They lied there, silently, both of them pretending not to be awake, but neither of them succumbing to sleep. He didn't understand her. He didn't understand her at all. She made him feel like all she ever wanted was to get away from him, when all _he_ had wanted since they reconnected was to get close to her, like they always had been. Yet, here she was now, sleeping next to him after he tried to freaking kill her in his sleep. Here she was now as if he hadn't hurt her, as if those twenty years apart hadn't even happened. It felt wrong that it was _this_ easy to fall back into line, that they could be just as they once were, so easily, and effortlessly. Then again, at the same time, it felt like the easiest thing in the world.

_I want to hide the truth, I want to shelter you…_

"I don't want to hurt you, Y/N," he whispered into the darkness, thinking she was asleep. She wasn't. He heard her shift to face him, so he turned to look at her.

_But with the beast inside, there's nowhere we can hide…_

"Then don't," she said, reaching out and gently cupping his cheek, his stubble pricking her palm. Instinctively, he leaned into her touch.

_When you feel my heat, look into my eyes…It's where my demons hide…_

"Whatever demons you got inside, tormenting you, just know that I'm here too, Dean," she told him softly. "I'm right here, next to you." She closed her eyes in regret and Dean knew she was thinking back to all the times she hadn't been there.

_Don't get too close, it's dark inside. It's where my demons hide…_

He never blamed her. In a way, he was glad that she had missed all the crap that had befallen his miserable life. He was most definitely glad she hadn't known him when he was a demon, running rampant with onyx eyes, killing people. "I should have been there for you," she continued, even as he tried to protest. She shushed him, as bossy as always, bringing a reluctant smile to his lips. "Let me do this for you now, at least."

He nodded, knowing she had him, knowing he wasn't even going to think of resisting her. "Good night, Y/N," he said, half praying to whoever was listening to keep the nightmares at bay for the rest of the night. Hurting her was the last thing he wanted. He closed his eyes, letting a sense of peace wash over him for however long it lasted. Feeling her settle in next to him, Dean fell asleep.

_He really had grown up to be one handsome devil, with lashes longer than any man should ever be blessed with and a jaw that seemed to be carved to perfection, _she thought, smiling to herself. She watched his face, now relaxed in his sleep. Hearing the deep fall and rise of his chest, she knew he was finally resting. _Weren't we supposed to find peace from our tormented lives at least when we slept? _She wondered, sadly. And yet, demons had him in their vice like grip even then. Whatever demons they were, she swore to herself that she wouldn't let him go. She would stand by him, whatever happened. "To hell and back, Dean," she whispered though he couldn't hear her, remembering their little childlike promise from days so long ago. She laid a swift gentle kiss on his prickly cheek. "Forever and always."

* * *

_Your eyes, they shine so bright,_  
_I wanna save that light..._  
_I can't escape this now,_  
_Unless you show me how..._

_When you feel my heat,_  
_Look into my eyes._  
_It's where my demons hide..._

_Don't get too close,_  
_It's dark inside,_  
_It's where my demons hide..._

_It's where my demons hide..._


End file.
